


The sharper is the berry, the sweeter is the wine

by mysticmjolnir (empressmaude)



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Incest, Intersex Loki, Loki in heat, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4900492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressmaude/pseuds/mysticmjolnir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is suffering, and there is only one he is prepared to let help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The sharper is the berry, the sweeter is the wine

**Author's Note:**

> written for [thrudr](http://thrudr.tumblr.com)

“GO AWAY!” Loki screams at the door, hurling a cushion across the room before throwing himself back down onto the bed and hissing in pain. It hurts to move, it hurts to _breathe_ , and his patience for unwanted suitors snapped some days ago. Even after retreating to his rooms, he has had to endure besotted fools tapping at his door, drawn in by rumours of the Silvertongue’s curious new shape and falling over themselves to sample and stare. He will have none of them, has no wish whatsoever to be pawed at like the newest exotic whore in a brothel, and made this clear to the last three by threatening to turn them into fresh compost for his mother’s garden unless they made themselves swiftly scarce.

He aches _everywhere_ , pain emanating from his hips through his entire body. It began a month ago – a strange twinge as he walked, nothing more, before the horror truly began. Frigga and Odin had done their best to gently explain it when they realised, but how can anything _Jotunn_ be gentle? Loki thinks with disgust. He had thought he was separate from the Frost Giants in every way, and secretly relished the fact that no-one could ever guess to look at him that he was anything but of Asgard, but alas. The Jotnar’s barbaric biology leaves him with body unlike any other in Asgard, and, for the last month, he has been suffering through a damned heat.

The pain and aches he feels are from his body preparing to bear children, Frigga had told him softly, folding her hand around his to try and soften the blow with her touch. His hips are widening, enough to make none of his clothes fit and make him feel like someone took a sledgehammer to his abdomen. And if that was not all, the ache between his legs is strong enough to almost blot out the pain; his cunt is slick enough to drown an army, and hungry enough to devour mountains.

Frigga promised that the heat would pass within another month, even if he refuses to lie with anyone to sate his awful arousal, but by that calendar he still has two weeks to endure with no relief other than restless sleep. It might help to take a lover, but considering the pain Loki feels every time he so much as shifts his weight, he doubts it very much. Besides, there is no-one is Asgard he would trust to see him in such a wretched and contemptible state. There is _one_ …but that useless lummox has been hunting in Alfheim with his pack of hapless lackeys since before Loki’s heat began, and Loki will spend a year in this hideous condition before he sends a missive begging his brother to return to – help him.

So now Loki is trapped in his chambers, barely able to move from his bed and nauseous with pain and unassuaged arousal, with hips that feel swollen to twice their natural width. He has given up on wearing proper clothes, and is clad just in a dark green shirt, blankets drawn up to his waist to cover his bare legs. He is miserable, his only solace the thought of what terrible vengeance he’ll wreck on Jotunheim when he is finally well again. The best idea he’s had so far is turning every Frost Giant into a Frost Snail, and dancing across the ice plains, stamping on the whole bloody lot of them.

The door creeps open, and Loki snarls in rage, grabbing another pillow to throw, but he subsides when a familiar but unexpected head appears around the door.

“Loki?” asks Thor, a puzzled frown on his stupid lovely face. “They told me you are ill, brother.”

“Come in,” Loki snaps, beckoning Thor forward impatiently. His brother obeys, shutting the door behind him and walking to the bed with slow, curious steps. He looks fresh from the baths, golden hair still dark-honey in places, and the smell of lavender and rosemary wafts through the room, helping to mask the musky funk that has built up in Loki’s convalescence. He looks…he looks…Loki scowls and glances down at the fine embroidery on the edge of his shirtsleeves; golden swirls on dark green linen. Thor looks as he always does, like a surprisingly useful lump of muscle.

Thor sits at the edge of his bed without invitation, hand resting on the covers next to Loki’s knee. “Are you ill, brother?” he asks lightly, with a hint of wariness. “You look, ah…” He trails off when Loki shoots a glare at him, unwilling to hear Thor tell him how bedraggled and unlike himself he looks. His hair is a tangled mess that touches his shoulders, longer than it has been for an age, and he has not managed to get himself into a bath for days.

“I am unwell,” admits Loki, lying back against the pillows with a wince of pain. He is glad to see Thor, but he hadn’t actually thought he would have to explain his predicament to his brother, and now the time comes he cannot find the words. Thor knows about his heritage, and was instrumental in helping Loki to come to terms with having a cock and cunt both, but it took months of pestering before Thor could persuade him to drop his glamour and he cannot imagine this…nonsensical state will cause the same happy gleam in Thor’s eye as appeared when Loki first let him near his quim. Perhaps he should claim it is just an ordinary sickness, and banish Thor until the heat has ended and Loki feels more like himself again. He squirms unhappily and scowls, avoiding Thor’s concerned gaze.

“And what is the matter, brother?” Thor prompts him after a moment, shifting closer along the bed. He knocks against Loki’s hip, and he hisses in pain and rolls away, curling up under the blankets and screwing his eyes shut. “Loki?” asks Thor, sounding worried. “Loki, what’s wrong with you?”

“Oaf,” snaps Loki instead of an answer. “Get out, Thor, I’ll be well again soon enough.”

“Not until you tell me what ails you,” replies Thor stubbornly. Loki feels the bed dip under Thor’s weight as his brother settles behind him, canny enough not to try and touch Loki again. “Or if there is aught I can do to help.”

“There is nothing,” mutters Loki, hating him.

“Then I will stay and keep you company in your illness,” Thor announces. “I will not leave you to suffer alone, Loki.”

Loki stews for a moment, then grimaces and forces himself to sit up and look at Thor, who has a disgustingly placid look on his face. “It’s do with being a Frost Giant,” he says through gritted teeth, daring Thor to react. “I’m in heat.”

Thor blinks, clearly taking a moment to understand the words. “I did not know Jotnar went into heat,” he says slowly. “What is happening to you, brother?”

“I…my hips,” begins Loki, before giving up and simply reaching for the blankets, shoving them down to his knees and lying back, shutting his eyes so he will not have to see Thor’s face.

Loki knows exactly what he looks like now, having conjured a mirror and spending some time examining the damage, and can picture exactly what Thor sees; his hips, once narrow, now flare dramatically out from his waist, having thickened by at least six inches (he has not had the courage to actually measure them yet). His pelvis is now covered in stretch marks, silvery lines that make him retch to look at. And below, as no doubt Thor is quick to notice, his cock is half-hard and entirely fails to hide how swollen and wet his cunt is.

Loki turns his head to the side, pressing his heated face into the cooler fabric. If Thor laughs at him, then he will kill him, no matter the penalty of fratricide or how much it hurts to move. One chuckle, one mocking jibe and Loki will _gut_ him, decorate the door of his chambers with the thunder god’s innards as an example to the rest of Asgard-

His thoughts are broken by the brush of Thor’s fingertips on his waist, light as a butterfly. “You look sore,” murmurs his brother, rubbing very gentle circles into Loki’s aching skin. Loki trembles a little from it; the touch is tender enough not to trigger new waves of pain, and actually feels a little soothing. Thor looks at him carefully, then presses harder, fingers digging into his sensitive hipbones. Loki gasps but doesn’t move or shove Thor away – it hurts, but better than anything he has felt in the past several weeks.

Thor moves back anyway, but only to settle himself gingerly between Loki’s legs to get a better angle to touch him. He starts again, this time with more deliberation, massaging his thumbs either side of Loki’s pelvis in tight, controlled spirals. Loki winces, and Thor looks up at him, hands stilling until Loki gives a tiny nod to continue.

Within a few minutes Loki is biting the inside of his cheek to keep silent as Thor’s large, strong fingers rub their away across his waist and hips in an exquisite massage, which manages to relieve almost all of the constant pain Loki has been suffering for days now. He feels like kicking Thor in the face for daring to waltz in and resolve Loki’s problems with a few simple touches, but as his pain lessens, the ache between his legs is growing more and more demanding. It is getting to the point where Loki could probably bear to copulate without wanting to remove his own spine, and Thor, while tolerant of many things, is rarely happy to fuck with a broken nose. Besides, Loki doesn’t want to seem entirely ungrateful.

Thor says nothing, apparently wholly attentive on his task. As Loki’s pain recedes, he grows more and more aware of his thighs either side of Thor’s chest, of the way Thor’s steady breaths gust over his hypersensitive cock and the top of his cunt and his hair falls forward, golden strands tickling worse as time goes on. Thor doesn’t seem to be trying to arouse him further; indeed, seems rather sweetly intent on merely lessening his brother’s pain, but Loki is in heat, and without the pain to distract him, pure need takes over. He lets out a quiet moan, arching his hips up towards Thor’s mouth invitingly, with possibly a bit too much enthusiasm.

Thor lurches backwards, clutching his nose and glaring. “What was that for?” he demands. “If I was hurting you-”

“You weren’t hurting me,” replies Loki, drawing to draw him back down by hooking his knees over Thor’s shoulder-blades. “You were doing excellently, now come back and keep going.”

Thor makes some indecipherable grumbling sounds, but returns to work caressing Loki’s hips. Either he is being obtuse or has somehow not noticed the considerable evidence of Loki’s arousal actually under his nose. Loki wriggles again, careful not to punch Thor in the face with his cock again, this time.

“Is there something else you want, brother?” asks Thor, and his tone is silky with smugness, his touch becoming light and teasing. “Something I can help with?”

It’s charming when Thor tries to be sly, flattering really, but Loki is in no mood for playing games. He glares down at Thor, propping himself up on his elbows and secretly delighting in the lack of pain at doing so. “Enough, Thor,” he snaps. “You know very well what I want.”

“I would not dare to presume anything when you are so afflicted,” demurs Thor, looking pleased with his own mischief. “I only wish to relieve your aches and pains, dear brother.” He dropped a kiss in the hollow of Loki’s hip, beard scratching at the sensitive flesh roughly enough to make Loki wince.

“If you don’t want me to throw you out of the window and go find someone else to assist me, then you will cease obfuscating and _get on with it_ ,” snarls Loki, beginning to twist out of Thor’s grip. He’s pleased when Thor’s hold tightens, and he gets another kiss, this time on the base of his cock.

“Someone else?” asks Thor quietly, and Loki wishes his brother’s mouth weren’t too enjoyable to sew shut. “You think someone could help you through this, brother?” He lets go of Loki’s hip with one hand to slowly trail one finger down Loki’s cock, from the tip down to the base, glancing over his clit nestled below and rubbing over the swollen folds of his cunt. “Is there anything who could give you what you need at this moment?”

Loki moans, trembling from the inadequate caress. “Shut _up_ , Thor,” he pleads, dropping back down against the pillows. Thor slides one, utterly insufficient finger into him, and teases cruelly at Loki’s clit with his thumb. It’s not enough, not enough at all, but Loki has been desperate for days and he’s already melting into the bed at the suggestion of Thor’s touch. “Please, just…”

“Just what?” Thor is ruthless, monstrous in his willingness to use this affliction against Loki. Loki is no longer able to tell exactly what Thor is doing, just that it is _not enough_. “What do you need, Loki?”

“You,” spits out Loki, promising himself a terrible vengeance upon Thor the moment he feels he won’t die the instant his brother moves away. “I need you to _fuck me_ , Thor. Now get on with it!”

This seems to finally appease Thor, who eases a second finger into his flesh and begins to fuck Loki, still far too mild to satisfy. Loki lifts his lips, demanding _more_ , and Thor presses his thumb hard against Loki’s clit. The pulse of sensation makes Loki swear and writhe, overwhelmed almost to tears.

Thor is at his side in an instant, dry hand cupping Loki’s cheek and wiping at a wetness there. “Loki?” he asks, voice tender and gentle and Loki hates him, and hates himself more for being weak enough to need Thor to be _gentle_.

He grits his teeth, and tries to drag Thor’s hand back down to where he wants it, but Thor is having none of it. He manhandles Loki up long enough to drag off his shirt, pressing small kisses across Loki’s shoulders and up his neck, careful not to let his stubble scratch too roughly on Loki’s skin. When he moves away Loki grabs for him, panicking, but Thor kisses his mouth, licking at his lower lip and in, until Loki is gasping for breath, and then lays him back down on the pillows. “A moment, love,” he murmurs, and vanishes before Loki can summon the strength to scratch his eyes out.

Loki is weak with the heat that has been wracking his body for weeks now, with burning lust and terrible aches, but despite that he feels now as if he is floating above the bed, woozy and helpless. He hears Thor moving around the room, hears a door opening and cannot even lift his head from the pillows to discover what the Hel his brother can be doing. All he can do is lie there and trust Thor means him no ill, and even worse, trust Thor to do no ill, intentional or not. He closes his eyes and tries to pretend it is otherwise, that this is a scheme to test Thor or trap him, to make it easier.

After a while, he cannot tell how long, Thor returns to his side and carefully lifts Loki into his arms. He moves with more care than Loki has ever seen before, and it still jars, still hurts his back and pelvis, and he whimpers and curls into Thor’s naked chest. He doesn’t bother to open his eyes, and is surprised into a loud gasp when he’s lowered into hot water.

Thor slides into the tub in front of him, carefully arranging Loki onto his lap. The heat seeps into his bones, soothing even better than Thor’s massage earlier, and after a while of lying on his brother’s chest with Thor’s fingers caressing his hair and back, Loki feels able to sit up and open his eyes again. Thor gives him a lazy smile, and Loki feel absurd, hateful gratitude at the lack of concern or fretting in his eyes. “Better?”

“Not yet,” replies Loki, sliding forward a few crucial inches along Thor’s thighs until his cock is pressed against his brother’s belly. He can feel Thor’s own erection nudging with interest against his hip, and kneels up just enough to let it nudge where he wants it. To tease, he rocks up and down a little, until Thor groans and tightens a hand on Loki’s shoulder. Ah yes, this is much better. He kisses Thor, biting at his lip and pulling lightly at his golden hair, before sliding, slowly and leisurely down onto Thor’s cock.

It feels exactly as delicious as he remembers, and chases away the last of the tension and strain in his abdomen. Loki feels a new kind of tension building, but lets himself settle for a moment, grinding down against Thor in tight circles and enjoying the pleasure it sparks and the way Thor’s hips twitch involuntarily up against his own. He keeps kissing Thor, who knows well enough to do nothing but what Loki lets him, palms flat against Loki’s back while his brother mouths hungrily at his lips and jaw and neck. The heat of the water, while soothing, is starting to take its own toll, and Loki drops his head to pant against Thor’s collar, curling his arms around Thor’s back and holding tight. “Now,” he whispers, and relishes Thor’s shudder. Later, when he has more control and feels less exhausted, he will make Thor _beg_ , but he is satisfied for now.

Thor’s hands drop down to Loki’s hips, and smooths over them with his large palms. He is clearly wary of hurting Loki again, but Loki is fine for now, and is ready to fuck. “I’m not made of paper, fool,” he snarls into Thor’s ear, and feels Thor’s fingers tighten. Together they start to move – Loki lifting himself, Thor guiding him with one hand at his hip and the other sliding down to cup Loki’s backside.

Thor doesn’t urge Loki to do much more than rock against him, and Loki feeling oddly content with a slow, lazy fuck rather than the frenzy he’d anticipated. Later, later there will be rough touches and sweet torments and together they will slake Loki’s unnatural Jotunn heat and there will be _nothing gentle about it_ …but now he barely moves enough to make the water splash at the sides of the tub, clinging to Thor’s broad back and panting into his neck. The only sounds are Thor’s harsh breaths and the lapping water, and the occasionally moan Loki doesn’t bother to hold back. It is good, so good, and Loki begins to suck a bruise into the base of Thor’s throat, to remind them both.

Slow and lazy is only enough to satisfy the gods for so long, however, and eventually Thor’s hand creeps between them to grip the base of Loki’s cock and run his thumb over the clit beneath. “Brother,” he says hoarsely, tugging on Loki’s hair and kissing him hungrily. “More.”

Loki is quite delighted to find Thor breaking before him, and sets his hands firmly on Thor’s shoulders, bouncing harder on his brother’s cock. The water sloshes violently around them, flowing over the edge of the tub onto the floor and slapping between their chests, reaching as high as Loki’s chin. Soon, he barely noticed it at all, the hot slide of Thor’s cock in him and Thor’s thumb pressed exactly where he needs it, rubbing hard against his clit every time Loki moves driving him crazy. He comes far quicker than he would have thought, back arching so suddenly that Thor has to quickly slide his arm around him to stop him falling back into the water.

He ends up resting against Thor’s chest again, trying to snatch his breath back even as the post-orgasmic bliss fades away and is replaced by need, focused and heady. “Again,” he pants into Thor’s ear, scratching lightly at his brother’s shoulder to make the point. “More. Now.” He rocks his hips again, but it’s not enough, not at all, and he bites Thor’s ear, a silent demand that Thor will understand and obey, or ignore and lose his earlobe.

Thor laughs, pleasant vibrations passing from his chest into Loki. “You are a demanding wretch, Loki,” he tells him unhelpfully, wrapping both arms around Loki and kissing him. Thor stands up, lifting Loki with him, and Loki wraps his legs around his brother’s waist tightly, Thor’s cock still buried in his flesh.

Thor carries him through to the bedroom easily, water dripping from the pair of them. Loki is too distracted to consider how altered Thor’s gait must be as he holds Loki against him, busy mouthing kissing along Thor’s neck and writhing against him. He is tossed down onto the bed, whining as he loses the feel of Thor within him, but is swiftly silenced by Thor crawling over him and claiming his mouth with lustful kisses.

The pain that he was utterly crippled by just an hour before is gone, _gone_ , and Loki can’t even hate Thor for being such an effective and miraculous cure, he is so pleased to be rid of it. In its place is nothing but lust, which Thor is equally functional in satisfying, proven by the way he holds Loki’s thighs apart and _shoves_ back in, so hard Loki screams with delight and claws at the meat of Thor’s shoulders. Whatever patience Thor had before for Loki’s needs is gone by now, and he fucks his brother with delicious force, grunting into Loki’s ear with every thrust. Loki arches his back, lifting his hips to meet Thor’s eagerly, his legs hooked around Thor’s waist.

He bites down on Thor’s shoulder as he comes from nothing more than being pounded into the mattress, savagely pleased when the taste of blood explodes on his tongue. Thor snarls and fucks him even harder, fingers digging bruises into Loki’s thighs as he nearly folds Loki in two. Grinning wide enough to split his face in half, Loki drags on Thor’s hair and reaches between them with his other hand to work at his own cock, only for Thor to drop one of his legs and grab Loki’s wrist tightly, pinning it to the bed beside them. “By my cock or not at all,” he growls, and Loki moans with joy.

~~

Hours later, or possibly days, Loki is exhausted and filthy, his back and his cunt sore in new and wonderful ways. He and Thor lies side by side on the rumpled bed, not touching at any point, but Loki feels no need to reach out and caress his brother – Thor should know the significance of what has happened, and if he does not Loki has no intention of diminishing it by telling him.

He has no idea if the lack of pain or burn means that his heat is ended or merely exhausted for now, but is too tired to really care either way, and is content to just enjoy the respite from his body’s unwanted Jotunn demands. Loki sighs deeply and shuts his eyes, ready to sink into an actual restful sleep for the first time in days.

“Loki?”

Thor shifts onto his side, and Loki can feel the warm of his skin almost touching him. He considers pretending to be asleep already before opening his eyes and turning his head towards Thor. “Yes, brother?” he asks wearily.

Thor says nothing for longer than Loki likes to wait, before finally saying softly, “I am glad you let no other assist you in this.” He begins to gather Loki close, obviously intending nothing more than sleeping with his brother in his arms, but Loki resists and narrows his eyes at Thor.

“You are glad I could trust no other to see me brought so low?” he hisses, fingers curled into claws ready to strike. “You are _glad_ that I am cursed with such barbaric heritage that I must suffer-”

Thor cuts him off with a kiss and drags him into his arms despite Loki’s new rigidity. “I am glad you trust me, yes,” he says impatiently. “I am not glad you must endure this, but I am glad, I am _honoured_ , that you let me in your bed to help and no other.” He presses insistent little kisses over Loki’s face until Loki begins to soften, then rolls onto his back and cuddles Loki against his chest in an embrace that is part loving and part restraining. “I love you Loki, and there is no part of you I am not pleased to hold close.” One hand slides pointedly down Loki’s side to rest on his rounded and marked hip, and Loki wriggles in annoyance before subsiding again.

“You are a fool,” he mutters into Thor’s golden shoulder, throwing his arm over his brother’s chest to hug him back. “Now sleep. I will need further assistance later.”

“Happily, brother,” replies Thor, and although Loki cannot see it, he can imagine the stupid, loving smile on his stupid lovely face.


End file.
